Moonshine Magic
by Sumi-Sprite
Summary: Pitch just wanted a nice, peaceful evening to himself. The Guardians just wanted to get wasted though, apparently. Or, in which Pitch collects some serious blackmail, and perhaps is a bit molested by a few of the Guardians. WARNING! Foruse of magic alcohol. Rated T to be safe.


**Moonshine Magic.**

 _A/N~ This little silly one-shot goes to_ _ **KS-claw**_ _as her prize for wining my Halloween contest over on DeviantART! I hope you enjoy it! Sorry that it's not exactly what you want down to the letter, but the concept kind of just ran away with me and stuff… 8P_

 _Please enjoy everyone! Prompt written by_ _ **KS-claw**_ _._

 _ **WARNING!**_ _For over consumption of alcohol and pervy Guardians. Enjoy~_

 _~S~_

Although no one has called him such things to his face, Pitch somehow knew people who took the time to know him would compare him to a lazy cat.

Granted, the Boogeyman was unobtrusive in his blatant attempts to shun sleep for as long as possible. More often than not, he would completely decimate the normal sleep systems and be awake for days, weeks, even months on end. If many knew of this, they would understand why he was so unhinged at times. But when you're the King of Nightmares, and said Nightmares were unruly creatures taking even from their master, you would forgo sleep for long periods of time too.

So it would come as a surprise to most that one of Pitch's favorite past times was sleeping.

And after three months, two weeks, eighteen hours, and fifteen minutes of wakefulness, he was going to damn well _sleep like a baby._

Silken bedsheets, a dozen or so pillows, a warm fire crackling pleasantly in his hearth, and a luxurious bed that would make even a king turn green with envy. Pitch was adamant in 'spoiling' himself when it came to his precious sleep. His Nightmares were content for now, and not at all interested in invading his subconscious mind, so he deemed the time safe for such things.

He sighed pleasantly as he burrowed down into his plush confines, the crown of his dark hair the only part of him visible over the edge of the silk blankets and pillows. He was actually in quite a good mood for once – a rarity in and of itself, and almost unheard of when he finally caved in to sleep. Nine out of ten times he decided to sleep because he was so emotionally exhausted due to things just not going anywhere near his way. But for once, for the past twenty four hours, his day has gone quite well. His Nightmares had been oddly complacent and even friendly today, the sun was nearly blocked out all day due to dormant storm clouds. The icing on the cake was that he was able to harvest a very large amount of fear without a single peep from the Guardians.

Perhaps it was his disgustingly good mood, but Pitch was starting to wonder if perhaps the universe didn't hate him.

He would later curse himself for being so stupid.

 _Crk…_

"Mm…?" Pitch blearily opened his eyes, peering out from under his covers. He squinted over at his fireplace, the bright light of the fire nearly driving him back under the warm confines.

He resisted though as the strange sound came up again, followed by chunks of soot falling from the throat of the fireplace. He blinked, sitting up somewhat as more soot fell, nearly smothering the fire and choking the air around him.

"What in the…?" he muttered.

"Ugh…!"

Pitch sat up, now fully awake at the sound – the voice. What in the world was-?

"GAH!"

"What the-?!" Pitch coughed, shutting his eyes on instinct as _something_ fell from his chimney flue and landed loudly in his fire pit. He coughed, waving his hands to clear the smoke, all the while vaguely listening to what sounded like Russian curses.

'… _wait, Russian?'_ he thought dumbly. His eyes flew open, blinking against the cloud of smoke and soot as it settled.

He gaped.

"Bah…! Blasted chimney…!" North, in all his Russian, boisterous, obnoxious glory, stumbled out of the fire pit like a drunken elephant.

And judging by the large, clear bottle in his hands, Pitch was not too far in his observations…

"What the…what are you doing here?!" He snapped, getting up from his bed and bristling like a pissed off cat, "How did – how did you even use my fireplace?! It doesn't have a chimney!"

North blinked, confused. He looked around for a moment, taking in the dark décor, lavish furnishings, and the very irate Boogeyman. He did not seem the least bit concerned that half of his clothing was burnt and covered in soot and ash. And upon closer inspection, Pitch seemed to take note of North's eyes. They were oddly…glassy. And his cheeks were ruddier than the usually were. And that bottle…

"AH! Pitch!"

The named Boogeyman yelped in a rather indignant manner as he was bodily grabbed and lifted into an actual bear hug by the Russian. Although, perhaps 'bear hug' is a bit of an understatement; Pitch never knew until then that it was in fact possible to be hugged by a trash compactor.

"North?! What are you-?!"

"PITCH!" The Boogeyman was lifted high up, and his face subjected to a sloppy, alcohol laden kiss to each cheek, "My friend! Why are you – _hic_ – sleeping?! You must be merry! Is time to be merry!" North slurred.

Pitch made as if to reply, but was soon smothered by the other's thick coat as he was squeezed to the point of his back popping painfully.

"N…North…!" Pitch squeaked.

"HAH!" North laughed uproariously – though Pitch was not sure why, as no one made a joke or anything – and spun Pitch around on unsteady feet.

"North?! What the absolute hell are you-DOH!" Pitch was suddenly swung out of North's arms and, missing his bed by at least five feet, landed with a thud on the floor.

And of course, North only laughed harder – so hard in fact he was bent double and slapping his knee, the clear contents of his bottle sloshing onto Pitch's clean floor. Pitch could only stare up at his ceiling, dumbfounded and so very, very confused.

But before he could even so much as voice his confusion, a familiar portal opens up directly above him.

And drops what he could only assume was two hundred plus pounds of pure Easter Hope and bunny fluff onto him.

Pitch didn't even have the strength to utter a curse, the wind having been knocked out of him. He also could not help but suspect he broke a rib.

Bunny giggled in a very un-Bunnylike manner, rolling up onto his oversized feet and swaying.

"Oi, North!" He laughed.

"Bunny!" If Pitch wasn't so disoriented, he would have witnessed the Russian man _skipping_ to Bunny and enveloping the Pooka in his arms, spinning the giggling Pooka like he had done with Pitch not even two seconds ago. The overgrown furball was also treated to a sloppy kiss to each furry cheek.

Pitch sat up, coughing and pressing a hand to his soon to be bruised chest. He watched the strange spectacle before him, somehow thinking it belonged in a cheesy musical with a flower field background.

"What the hell is going on here?! What are you doing in my home?!" He snapped.

Bunny and North stopped spinning suddenly, looking over at Pitch confusedly, as if they had forgotten he had been there at all. Pitch swallowed, suddenly nervous. Great, he just attracted the attention of two of the more aggressive Guardians, what else could go wrong?

But much to his shock – and a bit of creepy disgust – Bunny and North _smiled_ at him.

"PITCH!" They both crowed.

"No, no, NO-!"

' _So this is what a group hug feels like…'_ Pitch thought in distain, now squished between a furry, overgrown rabbit, and an equally furry mammoth of a man, _'It's terrible. I want to puke all over them…'_

Pitch cringed as, unprovoked, Bunny and North began singing loudly, obnoxiously, and _way_ off key. And somewhere in the back of his head, he registered that the portal that had dumped Bunny on him had yet to close.

"Guh…! Get _off_ of me…!" He rasped, wriggling and shoving until he finally squeezed out of his confines.

Gasping for breath, Pitch bent over his knees, trying to collect himself.

' _Okay…there is obviously something going on here. Either someone cursed them, they are on drugs, they've finally lost their marbles, or-'_

"EEP!" Pitch jumped up and spun around, hands automatically going back to cover his rear end. He gaped at the Sandman, who was grinning lazily at him.

"Did you just _pinch my_ -?"

"PEACHES~!"

' _Peaches…?'_ Pitch wondered, before he was tackled from behind. A gangly pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, and equally skinny legs wrapped around his waist, pressing frigid heels into his stomach. It didn't help that he was without his cloak now, only dressed in some loose sweat pants.

"Hi Peaches!" Jack crowed _way_ too loudly into his ear.

"Good god, Frost! Get off of me!" Pitch squeaked, very unmanly like, "Son of a…! You're feet are freezing!"

"Nope!" Jack chirped, then proceeded to _nuzzle_ the back of Pitch's neck.

Pitch was about to reply, but once again, he did not even get a chance.

"Pitch~" A female voice giggled, before a warm weight fell against the mentioned Boogeyman's front, small arms curling around his waist along with Jack's cold limbs.

"T-Toothiana…?!" Pitch rasped.

Tooth giggled a bit hysterically, snorting loudly. She leaned coyly against his torso, tracing a hand up and down his chest.

"Whatcha doin'? _Pft…!_ " She suddenly burst into uncontrollable giggles and snorts. Oddly, the somewhat hysterical sound unsettled Pitch. He was oddly reminded of a cat trying to hack up a hairball…

"What am I doing? What are _you_ doing in my home?!" He rasped.

"We missed you, Peaches!" Jack crowed, nuzzling against Pitch's neck. The Boogeyman shuddered.

"Why are you calling me that…?" He groaned.

It was Tooth who answers, standing up on the tips of her toes to try and reach his face. Apparently she forgot that she had wings.

"Cause you are jus' the _sweetest_ 'Oogieman ever~" She cooed.

Pitch 'eeped' as Tooth then proceeded to pucker her lips and attempt to reach Pitch's mouth. The Boogeyman reeled back, suddenly very grateful for his freakish height and the Tooth Fairy's short stature. He reached up, planting his hands on her shoulders to try and push her off, but apparently had no need to.

"Hey! I saw 'im first!" Jack suddenly climbed over Pitch's shoulders like a clumsy lizard. He fell forward suddenly, the two falling to the floor with a heavy 'thud' and a yelp.

Pitch could only watch as the two then proceeded to pull at hair, feathers, and curse each other out on the floor. Swallowing apprehensively, Pitch backed up a bit, but no sooner froze and looked down at feeling something wrap around his waist. He blinked at the Dreamsand rope around his waist, suddenly confused.

"What in the – SANDERSON!" The mentioned Sandman only giggled soundlessly, holding the end of his rope. A very large Dreamsand cowboy hat sat on his head, and he steadily started reeling Pitch in, all the while mouthing the lyrics to a song Pitch could not – _would not_ – name.

Pitch yelped as he was reeled in and thrown back onto his bed. Sandy skipped over and plopped down beside Pitch, grinning dumbly and throwing up various sloppy, malformed images over his head.

"What are you-? Sanderson. _Sanderson!_ San-NO I am not going to _cuddle_ with you!" Pitch snapped as the Sandman climbed into his lap and tried to snuggle with him, "I don't even _like_ you!"

Growling, Pitch flipped them over and threw Sandy into his bed, throwing his various blankets and pillows over the Guardian. He then leaped out of his bed and turned in a defensive position to the other Guardians.

"If someone does not tell me what is going on, _right now_ , I am going to-"

"Piiiiiitch!" North called out, stumbling over to the prickly Boogeyman. He threw a beefy arm over Pitch's shoulders, leaning so heavily into him that he nearly knocked the Boogeyman over.

"Piiiiiiiiiiiiitch!" He drawled again, his face now _way_ too close to Pitch's own face. And due to said close proximity, Pitch grimaced, eyes watering at the Russian man's alcohol laden breath.

"Don't be so prickly, my friend!" North hiccupped again, swaying and nearly tumbling over Pitch, "You must be merry! Is wondrous occasion!"

"How is this a wonderful occasion?!" Pitch snapped.

"Cause _I_ have created invention!" North crowed, shoving the bottle he had been holding into Pitch's arms. It was a very large bottle, heavy and filled with that strange, clear liquid one could easily mistake to be water.

Thankfully – or unthankfully – North released Pitch at Bunny's urging. The Pooka had found Pitch's phonograph and his classical music collection, and the rabbit was exclaiming somewhat incoherently about dancing or something. He vaguely listened as Jack tackled the Pooka and proceeded to sing something…something about a hedgehog? A very vulgar song about a hedgehog.

Hefting the large bottle up, he sniffed at its top. Pitch cringed, holding the bottle out and coughing into his hand.

' _By the gods, what is this? Paint stripper?!'_ He thought.

Pitch suddenly yelped at a loud screech, veering around just in time to see Bunny slam the needle of his phonograph onto a record none too gently. The large disk cracked and screeched.

Pitch gaped, blanching, "NO!" He rushed to the now wailing phonograph, taking in the bent needle arm and broken record.

' _That was my first edition Beethoven!'_ he thought in remorse.

Tooth giggled loudly. Pitch turned around, wide eyed, only to find Tooth riffling through his wardrobe.

Of all of the inappropriate…!

"Pitch, I never knew you were into such kinky stuff~" Tooth laughed, pulling out a pair of leather pants.

Pitch flushed beet red, "I am NOT-! Those were a gift!"

"Suuuuure…who is she? I bet I can out-kink her!" Tooth snapped in a sudden mood swing. Pitch was now literally seconds away from tearing his own hair out.

"Give me tho-HEY! Sanderson!" Pitch abandoned his lunge for Tooth, and instead marched over to where the Sandman had mysteriously procured his cloak and was now snuggling into it, and _smelling it_ , like a blanket out of the dryer.

Seeing the irate Boogeyman, Sandy soundlessly giggled and floated up into the high ceiling, where not even Pitch with his tall height could reach him. Pitch's fists trembled at his sides, teeth gritting and eyebrow twitching.

"Sanderson, if you do not give me my cloak in the next two seconds, I'm going to take that sand-filled ass of yours, shove it in a box, and dump you in a cat shelter!" He snapped.

Sandy only giggled more, wiggling and snuggling into his cloak more. Pitch felt a vein throbbing in his temple.

"Sander _sooooon_ …!" He growled.

Sandy replied by blowing a kiss at Pitch in the shape of a Dreamsand heart. Said heart floated down and collided with Pitch's nose, bursting into smaller hearts.

The vein in his temple quite possibly ruptured. Pitch vaguely wondered if this is what an aneurysm felt like.

' _No, be calm…you cannot let these weirdos get to you. You are BETTER than them, there's no need to fly off the handle…'_ He thought calmly to himself.

 _BANG!_

Pitch turned, eyes wide. He saw no Guardians in his bedroom, and his doorknob was imbedded in the wall where the door itself had been thrown open violently. He looked back over to his bed, finding the Sandman – and his cloak – gone. And on his bed was… _Jack's clothes?_

' _Is that his underwear…?'_ Pitch blinked dumbly.

 _Calm be damned._

But before he could completely succumb to strong urge to have a cow, he reevaluated his situation. The Guardians were all loose in his home, and judging by the eyebrow burning liquid in the bottle North gave him, Pitch could only assume they were completely and utterly sloshed…

"…I _just_ wanted to sleep today, that's all. Is that truly asking too much? Am I _that_ terrible of a person?" He groaned, nearly whining.

He growled, glaring at the bottle in his hand. But then he suddenly seemed contemplative, cocking his head thoughtfully at the bottle.

On the other hand…he knew he had a camera somewhere, and it's not like the Guardians were acting overly aggressive towards him. Frost was somewhere in his lair, buck naked, and everyone else was acting stupidly.

Why sleep all day when he can spend it collecting blackmail?

Pitch grinned deviously, swirling the contents of the bottle curiously. Well, they must be quite tired of drinking this stuff straight, and he was quite a mix-master for drinks.

At the very least, maybe the Guardians will overdose and kill themselves via alcohol poisoning…

 **~x~x~X~x~x~**

North woke up with what had to be the absolute _worst_ hangover of his life. And considering his Cossack days were filled with mostly drinking anything and everything alcoholic, that was saying something.

He groaned, turning over in his – wait…no, this wasn't his bed. It didn't even _feel_ like a bed!

Frowning, he patted his hands on the cold, hard surface. Stone, lightly dusted with natural dust and earth dirt. How the hell did he end up on a stone floor? He had no such thing in his home – the closest he had to stone floors were ice floors. And his _head…!_

' _Perhaps ice could be useful now…'_ he thought painfully. Even _thinking_ hurt!

North broke from his hungover thoughts at the sound of feet softly rasping against the ground and stopping just in front of him. North grumbled, cracking a single eye open – apparently he was on his back, so he should be seeing who was standing over him.

At first he saw nothing but a blur of black, grey, and two points of bright yellow. The colors swirled and blurred together, churning his stomach. He muttered a curse and screwed his eye shut again, a beefy, shaking hand coming up to cover his eyes.

Good gods, what did he _do_ last night?

"A lot, actually." A smooth, accented voice said.

North startled, not having realized he spoke out loud. Opening his eye again, he spread his fingers to peer up through them.

And came to be staring into the smirking face of a familiar Boogeyman – holding a single frying pan.

Pitch smiled pleasantly – or rather, like the wolf pleasantly informing its prey that he was going to now rip their throat out.

"Well good morning to you!" He crowed pleasantly.

North cringed, groaning and covering his ears. He was to hungover, and Pitch was _loud…!_

Pitch only quirked a brow in bemusement, tapping the frying pan contemplatively in his free hand.

"Oh come now, Nicolas, don't be such a grump!" If North didn't know any better, he'd say Pitch sounded _giddy,_ "I didn't think it was possible for one to drink their own dignity away, but I have been proven wrong by not just one, but all five of you!"

Five…? North opened his eyes again, turning his head – and nearly puking at the motion – to look around.

He was without a doubt in Pitch's lair, as was evident by the stony, winding and confusing structures. All over the floor were various…very random items he could not fully comprehend. He spotted his glass bottle laying in the middle of the room, completely empty. Along with the bottle, there was a single rubber glove with some suspicious color on the index and middle finger, a baseball bat with a rather telling red spot on its blunt end, a strip of masking tape with a trail of Tooth's feathers stuck to it, a toaster, a butter knife, and what appeared to be a tattoo gun…

And lo and behold, sprawled out all across Pitch's lair, were his fellow Guardians.

He immediately spotted Bunnymund. It was honestly difficult to miss the large Pooka laying passed out and sprawled over a napping Nightmare. A Nightmare he just now seemed to realize was wearing a flower crown that matched the one Bunny wore. There also seemed to be hearts painted on the dark horse's haunches…

North did not spot Tooth until he looked up at a hanging cage. His jaw fell open as he took in the passed out fairy's form. She appeared to be wearing…leather pants on her head?

Off to the right, North spotted Pitch's globe. And in its hollow center, Jack lay sprawled out in the bowl of Antarctica…and he was naked. _Very_ naked.

North blinked, slowly sitting up and looking around.

"Where…is Sandy…?" he rasped, his throat dry and scratchy.

"Oh he fell asleep in my bed after midnight," Pitch shrugged, holding the frying pan up, "So…"

 _CLANG!_

"GAAAH!" North covered his ears, falling backwards at the sound of Pitch slamming his frying pan against a stone wall. The others woke up with equally startled and pain groans and weak wails. Jack lurched out of the globe and hurled all over the floor.

Pitch only smiled though, "Breakfast?"

The Guardians groaned, nausea rushing through their guts at the mention of food. Bunny whined and sat up, scrubbing furiously at his crusty eyes. He blinked blearily and looked around, before his bloodshot green eyes settled on the Nightmare he was reclined against. The dark horse neighed softly, nuzzling his arm affectionately.

"Aw crickey…" Bunny groaned, his flower crown nearly slipping off his head, "Oh please tell me we didn't…"

"Well it's not like you could snag a lovelier lady, Bunnymund." Pitch smirked.

"Where the hell are my pants…?" Jack suddenly groaned, not even attempting to hide his modesty.

Everyone suddenly turned as Tooth fell from her cage and landed on the ground with a yelp. She groaned, the leather pants over her head covering her eyes.

"Uhn…" she groaned, not even bothering to pull the pants off her eyes, "Where are we…? What happened…?"

"Ah, Toothiana!" Pitch crowed, eliciting simultaneous flinches from everyone, "So nice of you to join us! Enjoying your newest fashion accessory?"

Tooth blinked under the leather pants, confused, "What…?"

"You don't remember?" Pitch asked in badly feigned surprise, "Take a look, darling~"

He grabbed his pants off Tooth's head, then presented his frying pan to her. She blinked owlishly, taking the frying pan and looking into the reflective silver surface on its bottom. She squinted, taking in her features.

She looked tired, and definitely hungover. Her cheeks were also a bit flushed from the alcohol, and her eyes were bloodshot. But other than that, she didn't look…

She blinked, cocking her head. She looked closer at her reflection.

Beside her, Pitch examined his nails casually.

' _Cue the fireworks in three, two…'_

Tooth screamed. The other Guardians cringed. Jack threw up again.

"What is this?!" Tooth screeched, staring in horror at her reflection.

"I believe it is called an eyebrow ring," Pitch supplied oh so helpfully, "You got it last night."

"WHY?!" Tooth shrieked.

"Well you couldn't choose a tattoo design, so you asked Bunnymund to-"

"YOU…" Tooth roared, turning to face the stunned looking Pooka, "You did this to me…?!"

Bunny swallowed, "Uh…"

Tooth screamed again, this time rushing at Bunny with clumsy wings. The Pooka cursed and scrambled out of the Nightmare's embrace, racing down the various halls of Pitch's lair with an angry, newly pierced Tooth Fairy on his heels – and brandishing a frying pan. Right at that moment, Sandy stumbled out from another hall, clutching one of Pitch's cloaks in his tiny hands. He too looked exceedingly hungover.

"Sanderson!" Pitch crowed – the Sandman flinched, "So glad you could join us!"

"Oh my god, _please_ stop shouting…!" Jack groaned, clutching his head, "And someone find me some pants…!"

Sandy blinked, taking note of Jack's nudity with a quirked brow. Pitch rolled his eyes and threw his leather pants at Jack. He wasn't going to wear them when they had been on the head of the Tooth Fairy – who knows where her head has been?

"Well now, I don't know about you all, but I could use some breakfast. But first…" Pitch suddenly turned and flipped a lever in the wall – a lever that anchored a chain, which held a large wrought iron cage up in the air by a pulley.

The cage dropped with a sickening, ear splitting _crash_. Although it was arguably quieter than the screams of both Jack and North – and even the fainter, distant cries of Bunny and Tooth.

Jack puked again.

And Pitch, the sadistic bastard, just smiled as if he were not the least bit deterred.

"Frost, be a dear and clean up this mess." He said, before turning on his heels and heading supposedly for his kitchen.

"I hate you…!" Jack groaned, sliding out of the globe and onto the floor, clutching the leather pants to his chest.

North groaned as well, sitting back up again. He rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"Jack, please be putting pants on now…" he sighed.

Jack grumbled about obnoxious Boogeymen and stripping. He shakily climbed to his feet, presenting his back to North and Sandy, as he tried to maneuver his gangly legs into the pants.

He suddenly paused when he heard North gasp. He turned, looking at North confusedly.

"What?" He asked.

North blinked owlishly, "…nothing."

Jack shrugged, turning back to his task while North and Sandy shared a strained look.

They could discuss the matter of Jack's new full back, magic dolphin tattoo later…

For now, North looked to Sandy, who was still clutching Pitch's cloak to his small form. He quirked a brow, but Sandy only gave him a look that plainly told him to keep his opinions to himself. North sighed.

"Okay…okay," He sighed, "So using magic to turn Moonbeams into moonshine is bad idea."

 _Clang!_

"So _that's_ what happened!" Pitch seemed to appear out of nowhere, North gritting his teeth as the obnoxious Boogeyman harshly set a tray of food and drinks on the Russian's head and held it there.

"Yes…!" North rasped, gently pushing the tray off of his head, "It was…spur of the moment."

"My, if these were the results he expected, it's little wonder Manfred agreed." Pitch said with a knowing grin.

"Yes, he-" North paused, his muddled brain tripping over his own thoughts. That…didn't sound right. How would Pitch know that Manny-

"How did you know Manny agreed…?" He asked, looking up at Pitch suspiciously.

"Oh, no reason," Pitch sang, turning to offer a glass of orange juice to Sandy – the Sandman abruptly turned green and hid in his cloak, "he should still be watching the video, it was quite a long night."

"Video…" Jack asked dubiously.

Pitch smirked, "I may be old, Frost, but that does not mean that I am not up to today's technological advances. And isn't it an unspoken custom for someone to record drunken idiots doing stupid things and show everyone?"

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, North, Jack, and Sandy's eyes widened.

"You _didn't_ …" North rasped.

Pitch shrugged, "I lost count of how many copies I made, but yes, I did. And I am _sure_ your Manfred will get a good laugh out of it."

North, Jack, and Sandy were beyond horrified, gaping open mouthed at the smiling Boogeyman. And right before any of them could voice any form of protest, Tooth and Bunny came shuffling back from another hallway, the Pooka nursing various egg-sized lumps on his head, and Tooth still clutching the now dented frying pan.

"Oh good! You're all here now!" Pitch crowed, setting his tray aside on a disgruntled Sandman's head, "Now then, I do believe you all have much to do back at your homes. So for now, I must bid you all _adieu_."

"Wait, NO-!"

Pitch waved his hand, and before North could voice further protest, a shadowy portal opened up under the Guardians' feet, and they dropped right through with shocked yelps. The portal closed after they vanished, Pitch chuckling deviously.

"Well, that was certainly worth the mess…" he said lightly, eyeing the overturned tray that once rested on the Sandman's head.

He looked up as his flower crowned, heart painted Nightmare nudged his arm. She neighed at him mournfully, and the Boogeyman cooed and patted her neck.

"Oh don't worry, darling. If Bunnymund does not call you tomorrow, I shall hunt him down and make a nice saddle for you out of his hide." He said reassuringly.

It had cost him his pants, a cloak, and a night of sleep, but it was very well worth it.

Meanwhile with the hungover Guardians, the five spirits found themselves back in North's Workshop…

Or rather, a Workshop filled with hundreds of hammered Yetis, Elves, and Mini-Fairies.

It was going to be a long day…

END.


End file.
